Pyjamas, Glasses and Companionable Silences
by CompanionToMisterHolmes
Summary: Some est. relationship Sherlolly fluff. I posted it first on Tumblr :P And this was technically the first Sherlolly I ever wrote (with a bit of recent editing).


**(or as originally and tiredly titled 'Screw Canon. Sherlolly 4 lyf')**

**So I decided I was a bit mean for teasing a certain lovely person with the first line of this. So instead of leaving it to sit on my computer a little bit rubbish and not quite finished, I've edited and added and here it is. **

**Also I may add more at some point, because I believe it's quite open to filling out either side of the story :)**

**Sherlolly fluff (as per always!)**

* * *

"Molly Hooper, you should wear pyjamas all the time."

Molly looked slightly dumbfounded at the words that were passing Sherlock's lips; always forgetting that somehow along the way Sherlock had really become hers. After a fleeting moment of confusion Molly skulked over to a pyjama clad Sherlock Holmes who had once again took residence upon her mismatched floral atrocity of a sofa.

"Oh, really? And why exactly would that be, Sherlock Holmes?" Her voice was low and almost suggestive, but it was clear she was teasing him.

"Because, logically, when in pyjamas you are in a more relaxed state, and when you're relaxed you look even. more. beautiful…" punctuating his words with affectionate momentary kisses on the tip of her nose, ones that would not seen nor mentioned around any other living thing. "You're just nothing more, nothing less. So in conclusion pyjamas to be worn all the time would be a preferable outcome."

"You know somewhere in that massive intellect of yours there's a hidden romantic." Molly murmured as she snuggled closer into Sherlock's side, cracking open her new paperback in replacement of her tattered and torn hardback, that was in desperate need of some sellotape. "Also, I do believe that the same goes for you, you should be in pyjamas all the time too." A coy smile on her lips.

"And why's that Molly, darling?"

"Well that would be, logically, no matter how damn sexy you look in your Spencer Hart, PJ's are ultimately more comfortable, they mean that you're staying here for at least a little while longer and they are far, far, easier and quicker to remove; that is, of course, if I weren't reading my favourite book." With a smug grin plastered across her petite mouth, Molly lent upwards, planted a soft kiss upon Sherlock's jaw and went back to her reading.

Sherlock on the other hand, may have looked deflated that his girlfriend seemed to value a book over him, naked; but he truthfully had come to care for moments like this where cheeky Molly came to fruition, or when Molly snuggled into his side as he would think and she would read. In the rare intervals in which he slept these were the moments he dreamt of.

Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, that Sherlock had somehow, and at first unwillingly, become. He placed Molly's forgotten reading glasses onto the neat and fresh pages of her book, yet to be crumpled by years of re-reading; having learnt from experience and more error than trial, that, especially from this angle, it is exceedingly difficult to correctly place and position glasses upon another (without someone getting hurt).

"Oh, thank you love. I could barely read a word, but you know I feel so old when I have to wear these." Molly waved around the offending item, her prescription horn rimmed glasses.

"Well I rather love you in those glasses, and why would they make you feel old? Children wear glasses." Of course Sherlock who not realise an addition to his girlfriend's self conscious nature.

"You silly beautiful man, they make me feel old, because the necessity for them increases with age. And I'm just using them more and more these days." The glasses now perched upon the tip of her nose as she looked above them to see Sherlock clearly, in some way trying to prove a point that the glass and metal that adorned her features somehow added ten years.

"But, love, you look sexy; I mean those glasses, pyjamas and your hair parted just so. I'd have you right here, right now… if you weren't reading." It was Sherlock's turn to look away, as if to enter his mind palace, characteristic teasing smug on his face.

"You sure know how to woo a girl… especially with so little experience." Catching Sherlock's attention was easy, and he soon dropped the façade, turning enough to create a more comfortable angle to converse. Having been awkwardly leaning for quite some time, assuming that the couple would return to a companionable silence; Molly reading and himself cataloguing the varying coagulation of blood samples in extreme conditions from his last experiment in the lab.

"Molly Hooper, we have been together for over two years now, I like to think that qualifies as more than a little experience. I've matured, I'm well out of the pulling plaits stage."

That certainly got Molly thinking. "So is that what all those insults were?"

Molly giggled softly to show how any hard feelings, if ever there at all, had been blown away with the winds of time.

"Less insults more misguided observations, but I suppose it was; I can't see any other logical reason that I'd been such a git and let someone someone so brilliant, go for 8 years." He felt he needn't bring up his lack of emotional availability for a majority of those years.

"You know, getting kicked out of Uni within the first year, and us not actually meeting each other again until you decided that St. Bart's would be your new home away from home, probably didn't help the situation." She felt she needn't mention her lack of attraction towards the wayward soul that floated through the halls of Oxford, pale, thin and with a constant look of illness.

"Well yes, you have a point there Molly. But you know better than most I do not need a degree to know that my intelligence levels are over and above those of the idiots of Oxbridge education."

With a mock look of disgust on her face, Molly decided to play the 'you've been mean to me in an indirect way that will affect you directly in the near future' bluff. Something even Sherlock found difficulty in deciphering, and definitely made him regret showing Molly some of the more complex -tell hiding- tricks of the acting trade he had learnt. "Not good?"

"Hmmm… Well calling me stupid, even if indirect, is certainly not a good way to get me to put the book down." The cheeky glint in Molly's eye gave her bluff away within nanoseconds of her speaking, it spoke over and above the angry sentiment that any other would have implored when insulted by the Great Sherlock Holmes. "But I suppose it's good to know I haven't changed you too much." Molly said as her eyes refocused upon her reading material, and Sherlock set a soft kiss upon her forehead.

_Companionable silence it is then._


End file.
